votes of nine other judges in robes.
'Two of them are women,' Terri said. 'They really listened hard to everything Chris told them about you.'
But saying this revived Terri's sense of deep disquiet. As if he could hear her thoughts, Rennell stared at the table.
She covered his hand. 'I've got good news, Rennell. We found you a home—living with a minister a few blocks from our house.'
Rennell closed his eyes. 'When those judges gonna tell us?'
'June. That's when they'll announce it.'
'How long that be?'
An eternity. 'Not long. Two months from now, that's all.'
'Long,' Rennell said wearily. 'You tell that minister to wait for me, okay?'
* * *
The next morning, Terri, as was her custom, awoke at 6:00 A.M., before the others, to sip black coffee and read The New York Times.
As always, the Times had appeared on her doorstep, delivered in the hours before dawn. The only difference —which at first Terri barely registered—was that it lay flat on the front porch, unrolled from the tight blue cellophane wrapping, which today lay beside it.
Pausing, Terri looked up and down the tree-lined street. It was silent, save for the dull, thudding tread of a single jogger, running up the slope of Pacific Avenue in the thin glow of dawn. Pensive, Terri closed the door behind her, and went to the kitchen to pour her first cup of coffee and start reading at the breakfast table.
Lifting the front section from the others, she froze.
A loose photograph lay across Section B, inserted in the paper. Its image, though grainy, was clear enough—an adolescent girl on her knees, performing oral sex on a dark man with an oversize penis, his torso visible only from the waist down. The girl's hair was black like Elena's, her skin as pale.
Fighting back nausea, Terri heard her own brief cry.
ELEVEN
ON THE MORNING OF THE FRIDAY CONFERENCE, CAROLINE MASTERS sat alone in her chambers, reviewing her notes.
Three of the cases were predictable—she already knew where the votes were and believed they would be correctly decided. At least, none of the rulings would deface the law, or bring rancor to the Court which was her charge.
Unless she was lucky, this would not be true in the matter of Rennell Price.
Idly scanning her notes, she pondered the chain of irony and mischance, the changing tides of law, through which one inmate, once a speck in the margins of society, had become the pawn of a fate which dwarfed his own. Then the buzzer sounded in her chambers, as in those of her eight colleagues, summoning the Court to conference.
* * *
As Chief Justice, it was Caroline's role to initiate the discussion of each case which had been argued, outlining the decision under review, explaining her views as to the applicable law, then casting her vote on whether to affirm or reverse. By now this ritual was second nature, one she performed with confidence and crispness, and she strove to treat the case of Rennell Price like any other. But the sharp attentiveness of her colleagues underscored the stakes.
'The Ninth Circuit ruling,' she began, 'has two distinct components:
'First, that Rennell Price met the burden of demonstrating mental retardation. The effect of that ruling is simply to bar his execution.'
Anthony Fini, she saw, smiled slightly—his silent way of objecting to the assertion that Atkins applied at all. 'Second,' Caroline continued calmly, 'the Ninth Circuit agreed with Mr. Price's assertion that new evidence of innocence entitled him to exoneration. As the State concedes that it could not now obtain a conviction, affirming the Ninth Circuit means that Price goes free.
'There are two alternative grounds for doing so. Under AEDPA, the Ninth Circuit held that Mr. Price was entitled to introduce new evidence of innocence—his brother's confession—because Yancey James's performance deprived him of the effective assistance of counsel, and because counsel's failure to offer the confession earlier was not caused by lack of diligence . . .'
Fini's eyebrows shot up, noting what, to him, was clearly a contradiction. Ignoring this, Caroline addressed herself to Justice Glynn, a silent portrait of indecision. 'In the alternative,' she said, 'the majority held that, where the new evidence of innocence is compelling, Mr. Price was entitled to introduce it even if he could not satisfy the predicates of AEDPA—which is to say, even if Mr. James's performance was adequate and, therefore, his original trial was technically fair.'
Pausing, Caroline surveyed the others—Justices Ware, Kelly, Rothbard, and Millar to her left; Justices Fini, Glynn, and Raymond to her right; and, at the other end, Justice Huddleston. Leaning forward, she rested both arms on the table. 'On the Atkins claim, I vote to affirm. Mr. Price's social history establishes, by a preponderance of the evidence, that he is mentally retarded.
'On the innocence claim, I vote to affirm under AEDPA. That means we do not have to resolve whether a freestanding innocence claim exists, or what the proper standard of proof might be.' Her voice became clipped. 'To me, this case is hardly a landmark in the law. The only compelling question it presents relates to Mr. Price: will this Court permit the State to execute a man when it concedes that the evidence no longer even supports a conviction? And if we do, what on earth has the law—or this Court—gained? Nothing.'
With that, the Chief Justice stopped abruptly, nodding to Justice Huddleston. Her senior colleague spoke slowly and deliberately. 'There's been much discussion,' he began, 'of all the deference we owe to the ruling of the
